


A Place To Call Home

by QutieMoon



Series: The Riverdale Collection [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 00:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QutieMoon/pseuds/QutieMoon
Summary: Three times Jughead almost told Archie the truth about his living situation and the one time he did.





	A Place To Call Home

#1

Jughead stands before the Andrews’ front door. The sun is cresting over the horizon. He’s just watched his mother take his sister and drive off into its embrace. The knuckles of his loosely curled fist are resting against the door. He can’t bring himself rap against the wood, though.

They’ve been drifting lately. Jughead doesn’t blame Archie. It’s a natural part of life. Not everyone stays best friends with their childhood companions. Their lives have just gotten too busy to make their schedules work. If Jughead’s completely honest, they aren’t missing each other enough to try. Yet, it’s Archie’s door he’s turning to as it all goes to shit.

The door swings open. Startled, Jughead stumbles backwards. Archie emerges. He’s too focused on trying to get his arm into his jacket to notice the other person on his porch. Jughead wonders if he still has time to vault over the porch rails and hide before Archie spots him. He’s suddenly not sure what to say. ‘I know we haven’t talked much but my mom took Jelly and left me behind,’ doesn’t really seem quite right.

Then, Archie notices him. “Jug,” he says, sounding surprised. Any doubts on the status of their friendship are removed as the corners of Archie’s lips stretch into a smile even brighter than the sun that’s still rising.

“Hey Andrews, long time no see.” The fingers of his still raised hand wiggle hello before he shoves both hands into his pockets. He’s not sure what else to say, can’t bring himself to mention his mother’s departure. Instead, he shuffles his feet and drops his gaze from Archie’s watchful eyes.

“You heading to school?” Archie asks. Jughead’s grateful that he doesn’t ask why he’s standing in front of his house. Thankful that Archie can still read him enough to know not to.

“Yea,” he says, lifting his head. He’s got his backpack on but it’s not filled with school books. It’s filled with clothes, his favorite books from home, and the only picture of him with his sister. He’d packed it all listening to the shatter of plates and furniture as they were hurled at the wall. He can still hear his father’s enraged shouts dissolving into sobs.

“You wanna walk together?” Archie is still watching him. Still trying to puzzle together why Jughead’s on his porch so early. But he’s not going to ask and that’s what Jughead needs the most right now. To pretend like his life isn’t falling apart.

“Yea,” Jughead nods finally returning Archie’s smile.

 

#2

Jughead peers through the dirt-streaked windows of the house he used to call home. He wants to make sure his father isn’t passed out on the couch. Or worse, sitting at the dining room table with a fresh bottle of whiskey. Jughead doesn’t see him but makes note of the plethora of empty beer bottles littered around the place. Certain it’s all clear, he slides his worldly possessions off of his back and sits down on the front steps. 

Jughead fishes his phone out of his jeans pocket. He’s right on time. He doesn’t expect Archie to show up for at least another ten minutes. Still, he fires off a text alerting his friend that he’s ready.

This is the first time he’s been back since he watched his mom and Jelly drive away. He’s here because he still hasn’t found the courage to tell Archie the truth. He’s tried but every time the words wrap around his lunges until he’s desperately choking on air. It doesn’t help that their relationship hasn’t really improved. They talk to each other when it’s 11pm at Pop’s and they’re the only two left inside. But Archie’s new jock status means no interaction outside of that.

That’s why Jughead was so shocked when Archie suggested this road trip. He’d called it ‘getting the band back together, just without the instruments.’ Jughead sees it as a chance to rekindle their dwindling friendship. A chance for them to leave the pressures and expectations of Riverdale behind, at least for a little while. He’s hoping a change of scenery will help him say what he needs to.

He checks his phone, still no message back. Archie’s turned off his read receipts recently. Jughead wonders whose text he’s screening. He hopes it’s not him.

Since his already unstable life became viotle, Jughead’s started noticing how far he’s drifted from all his childhood friends. He sits in his booth at Pop’s and watches them all interact, jotting down little details for his book. It’s lonely. Not that he wants to be friends with them, per se. He just wouldn’t mind having  _ someone _ , especially if that someone is Archie.

His phone vibrates with a text. He flips it over quickly, eager to see Archie’s ETA. An icy cold settles in his chest. It wraps around his heart, dragging it down into his gut. The edges of his eyes start to sting. He abruptly stands up, marching up the stairs. The door is unlocked. He heads straight for the living room. It doesn’t matter if it looks like someone’s been inside. He’s sure one of his father’s cronies has already reported his whereabouts anyway.

He snatches the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the coffee table. He unscrews it and raises it to his mouth with shaky hands. It burns in his throat but doesn’t do much to thaw his heart. He should be used to this. His life is made up of disappointment after disappointment. It’s just, he’s never experienced it from Archie before.

Archie who just texted him to cancel the trip. Jughead can feel the last thread of a lifeline slipping through his fingers. Jughead takes one last mouthful before screwing the cap back on. He’s not his father. Putting the Daniels back on the table, Jughead exits the trailer and heads back to his makeshift home in the projection shed at the movie theater. 

He’s on his own.

 

#3

Jughead stands at the bottom of the Andrews’ driveway. He’s hidden from sight by the branches of the weeping willow. Through slits in the branches he can watch the two residents interact. Archie and his dad are sitting at the kitchen island, the contents of a Pop’s delivery bag spilled out between them.

Jughead fiddles with the straps on his bag, tightening and loosing them as he tries to decide what to do. They’ve closed down the drive-in, no thanks to his own father. It smarts to know that he had a hand in it, even though he’s supposed to be used to it. A child-like voice in his subconscious offers that maybe his father just wanted him to come back. Jughead disregards that thought. If he really wanted that, he’d get his shit together so his mom and Jelly would come home.

He watches Mr. Andrews throw his head backwards in a fit of laughter. Archie’s grin is smug, pleased that his joke got that reaction. Jughead imagines himself in there with them. He’d be chuckling, aware of Archie’s approval seeking gaze passing over him. A plate loaded up with fries would be sitting in front of him. The last bite of his second burger being stuffed into his mouth.

He hasn’t had a burger in so long. With the drive-in closing, he’s had to save every last penny of his wages. He could  _ really _ go for one right now. He starts to step closer to the house. Archie and him are friends again. But it’s a tentative one. Cohabitating might break what fragile pieces they’ve glued back together. Jughead would rather  have their friendship then a roof over his head. He’s gone this long without.

He thinks of the school. A quick glance at his phone tells him that it’s still unlocked. He’s got the key for the Blue and Gold club room tucked into the front zipper pocket of his bag. He could sleep in there, just for the night. It’s too open and there’s too much of a risk Betty will find him there. However, he likes the prospect of the school. He won’t have to worry about being on time for class and there’s the locker room. Jughead hasn’t lived with a working shower since he left home.

He gives the Andrews household one last glance before he turns and makes his way to the school.

 

+1

Jughead has to lean against the doorway as he watches Archie riffle through the contents of his makeshift home. His knees are knocking together so hard he has to tuck his sweater between them. They almost give out altogether as Archie inspects the picture of him and Jelly. There’s a ringing in his head that started the moment Archie refused to be distracted by his quip. It only gets louder as his friend turns to look at him.

“What happened, Jug?” His eyes are so wide and filled with concern. Jughead feels like he’s pitching forward, falling into their depths. Being swallowed by dark brown eyes feels like being buried alive.

“My mom left,” he hears himself say. His own voice sounds like he’s listening to it through a radio feed. “She got fed up with my dad so she took Jelly and left.”

Archie makes his way towards him. It only takes two steps, he’s been living in a fucking closet for the past few weeks. Archie reaches past him to grab the doorknob. Jughead is forced into Archie’s chest as the door clicks shut behind him. His friend wraps his arms around him. It makes every muscle in Jughead’s body tense. He hasn’t received a hug since ‘The Departure’ and it’s been even longer since  _ Archie  _ gave him one.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Archie says into Jughead’s beanie.

“I don’t know, I was going to.” He’s startling to relax, melting into Archie’s sturdy body. The tears he’s been keeping at bay prickle at his eyes. For the first time since he’d seen Jellybean’s tear-stained face pressed to the window as they drove away, he let’s them fall. 

“Why didn’t she take me too?” he sobs into Archie’s shirt. It’s the question that’s been haunting him. What part of him didn’t she see worthy enough to bring along. He’s been told that he looks just like his father. Was he too much of a reminder?

“I’m sorry,” Archie says, holding Jughead up as his knees finally give out. “I’m sorry this happened, Jug. I’m even more sorry that I wasn’t there when it did. But I will be now. We’re brothers, Juggie.”

Jughead hiccups a sob at those words. He knows this won’t fix everything. His family’s broken and has been far longer than when his mom left. Even his and Archie’s friendship isn’t as tight as it was just a year ago. But this promise of companionship feels like a tether. He’s been floating for so long that the prospect of gravity feels like  _ everything. _


End file.
